The Otherside
by erbby17
Summary: After years, Mello meets up with Near, sparking Mello's memory about his life in Wammy's and his road to KIRA afterwards. A narative by Mello.
1. Prologue

Hello! This is **ERBBY** and you do not know how excited I am about this story! I'm actually going against my own will and doing what I hate: writing a chapter and then posting it once I'm done writing it. Yeah, I figured that if I don't do it that way, I'll lose interest in the story (that's what happened with _Always There For You_, but at least I finished it.) Also, this story is already organized and I pretty much have all of the other chapters written in my head. Getting them down on paper is the hard part. So, now let me disclaim!!!

**DISCLAIMER**: Death Note, Mello, Matt, Near, and all of that other fun mumbo jumbo belong to the almighty gods, Ohba Tsugumi and Obata Takeshi. I do not own them, but I will steal Mello one day...he's my ultimate favorite anime character (as well as Aki-chan from Furuba...but that's totally different). Also, in the Prologue here, be aware that the first half is my paraphrase of one scene from Chapter 77, so don't sue me for plagiarizing, because it's really just Mello's narration of that scene. Also, be prepared for some _**language**_, massive _**spoilers**_, and awesomeness spewing from Mello...he's pretty damn sexy.

Another note! Considering that the Red Hot Chili Peppers are basically the "Spokes-band" for Death Note, I was inspired by Californication, hence the title. "Otherside" helped me think of this new concept for the story (first person), so I named the story in honor of the song...ENJOY!

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**EDIT** - 12/13/2007: As today is Mello's 18th Birthday, I am REPOSTING this story…to be more accurate, I have edited and proofread this story to a T and I would like to repost each chapter. So HAPPY 18TH MELLO! Here's your neat-and-clean story, ready for re-reading, or for some of you first timers out there!

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Prologue 

"I'm not just a tool for you to use to solve the puzzle," I say, pointing the gun to his white head. From the corner of my eye, I can see the two men in the room bring out their guns, pointing them at me.

"Rester, Gevanni, please lower your guns. If Mello wishes to shoot me, let him," Near says, not even turning his head. This only agitates me more and I put more pressure on the trigger, until Hal runs to me and grasps the gun.

"Mello, don't shoot him. If you do, then just capturing KIRA on your own would be meaningless. Besides, if you do shoot him, the three of us would be left with no choice but to shoot _you_ as well. If both of you die, then KIRA succeeds."

I stare into her eyes and lower my gun, letting out a laugh. "I suppose she's right, Near. But I only came here for one thing: my picture."

He pulls the photo out from some random place on his body, showing me the side with my smirking face from five years ago.

"This is the only remaining photograph of you, Mello. Also, the surveillance cameras in this building do not record, just monitor," he says.

I walk over to him and grab the photo from his small hands. He hasn't grown much in the last five years; he's still just a little shrimp. He continues to speak.

"I've contacted the Wammy's House and anyone else who has seen your face. You're just about 100 cleared from being killed by the notebook."

I flip the photo over to see Near's handwriting. _'Dear Mello,'_ it says. It's obvious from this that he's been planning to meet up with me. He probably also figured that Hal would give the SPK's information on KIRA to me.

I look over at Near. "Near, I have no intention of joining you," I start.

"I know," he says without emotion.

"However, it feels unnatural for me to receive this picture without giving you something in return. The notebook…is a Shinigami's notebook." I hear the men in the room gasp. "Whoever touches the notebook can see and hear the Shinigami that owns it."

"That's ridiculous!"

"A Shinigami's notebook? Who's going to believe that bull?"

The two men in the room are almost yelling, but I don't care about their opinions; Near's in the only one that matters.

"I believe him," he says. I knew he would say that.

"There is no advantage for Mello to lie with a story about a Shinigami. If he were lying, he would've come up with something more believable, so Mello is telling the truth and Shinigami do exist."

"The notebook that was in my possession belonged to a Shinigami named Shidou, who was looking for his lost notebook on Earth. He said that another Shinigami had his notebook before," I say.

"This fact can be validated because of the rules written in English. If he were looking for a lost notebook, why would he write down the rules of the notebook for human use," Near says, playing with his dumb figurines.

I turn around and I'm ready to walk out of this place. "Oh yeah, Near, one more thing. Among the rules of the notebook is a fake one. That's all I'll tell you," I say, putting my gun in my pants.

"Near."

"Mello."

We speak simultaneously.

"Which one of us will get KIRA first?"

"The race is on…"

"I'll see you at the finish line," I say, and I walk out of the room.

I walk to an abandoned apartment building about two blocks away from the SPK headquarters. I open the door and walk inside, climbing up the beaten stairs. I enter a room, which oddly enough has a fire going in the fireplace. I sit down in the chair right by it and pull out my cell phone. I dial Matt's number and it rings about three times.

"Where the _hell_ are you?" he says after answering.

I sigh. "New York."

"**WHAT**?! New York?! How the hell did you get to New York? _When_ did you get there?"

"Well, I had a few errands to run and New York was the place to be."

He pauses. "Uh-huh, okay. So, did you see Near?"

I pause for a bit, too. "Yeah, I got my picture back."

"You did? What was he wearing? How much did he grow? What toys did he have with him? Is he still in that stupid blank emotionless state that he always used to be in?" He says all of this while laughing hysterically.

"Why do you care, Matt. He's still short and white, okay? And he's still a bit of a douche, too."

"Aw, isn't that cute." He pauses again. "So, when are you coming back to me?"

"Maybe tomorrow or the next day. I've still have to do some things for some one."

"Who, Near? Or that hot chick that you're always calling."

"You asshole, Near. I'll come back when I'm done, okay? See you then."

"Okay, later." He says, and then hangs up. I shut my cell phone close and lean back in the chair, sighing.

I pull out the picture and stare at it for a bit, laughing. I can't believe that the stupid kid in the picture used to be me. I look so cynical.

I look over at the fire place and my mind gets lost in the chaos of the flames. I toss in the picture and watch it slowly melt away, letting myself remember things that haven't crossed my mind for years…


	2. One: Mother

Yeah, I just submitted this chapter an hour ago and realized that I forgot to proofread it (but there are probably more mistakes...) Anyway, here's the first ACTUAL Chapter to the story, with some plot development and a new character! Yay!

**DiScLaImEr:** Ooo...So you think you're all creative now, huh Erbby...ahem, sorry...I do **NOT** own Death Note, which is property of Ohba/Obata. Also, be wary of some language (like, one word...), spoilers (but not in this chapter), and some awesomeness (even though Mello's only six in this chapter...)...ENJOY!

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**EDIT – **12/16/07: Here's the first chapter of "The Otherside," REPOSTED and EDITED. As per a reviewer's request, I added a bit more to the fire scene (and it is MUCH improved, thank you very much) and added a bit more tension.

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_Chapter One: Mother_

Lying in my bed, I could hear my mother in the other room, talking on the phone. "I'm leaving him in your care. I can't let anyone hurt him…no, I _won't_ let anyone hurt him. Please, come get my baby…I don't think I'll return," she said. "I found him, Roger. I found Michael…he wasn't dead after all. If anything happens to me, my baby is in your care." I heard her hang up the phone and after a few moments, she started to cry.

"Mommy?" I said, softly. She suddenly stopped crying and opened my door, letting the light from the hallway filter into my room. I quickly shut my eyes, as if I had been asleep all night. She walked over to the side of the bed and placed her hand on my forehead.

"Baby," she said quietly. "Mommy loves you so much, but she has to leave for a while. Mommy might not come back, so you might wake up somewhere else." She started crying again and put her head down on the bed. "I love you so much baby, but Mommy has to find someone…Good night."

She kissed my forehead and got up to leave the room. After closing my door, there was a moment of silence and then the front door opened and closed; she left the house.

I found it hard to fall asleep for the rest of the night; I was too concerned about the location of my mother. It wasn't for another few hours when I heard the front door open. I gasped and bolted out of my bed to my door, opening it slightly. "Mommy," I said softly to myself, smiling. She couldn't have been telling the truth about leaving and never coming home; I knew she was coming back. But all of my dreams of a returning mother died when I heard the conversing voices of two men.

"Michael said this was the house," one said.

"You really think there's a kid in here?"

"Probably, but he told us to just get the job done, no matter what."

"Yeah, you're right. Let's just get this shit done with."

They walked out of the house laughing and I shut my door. Sighing, I leaned against it and slid down to the floor.

"Mommy, where did you go," I asked myself, tucking my tear filled face into my knees. I sat there crying when a few moments later, I thought I smelt smoke. I lifted my head to catch a better whiff of the smell; it was definitely smoke, proven by the small, grey clouds emerging from the cracks of the door. After getting to my feet, I flung the door open and watched in horror as fire and smoke consumed the entire hallway. I slammed the door and collapsed upon the ground.

"Mommy!" I screamed, crying. "Mommy, help me!"

As the flames were creeping their way through the cracks in the doorway, the wall on the opposite side of the room burst apart and two men in black armor came running into my room. I screamed, thinking they were the two men to set the house aflame, but instead, they approached me, threw a blanket over my head, and picked me up in their arms.

"Thank God, we got here in time," one of them said, running out of the house.

"Yeah, I'd hate to think what would've happened if we got here too late," said the other.

They brought me to a helicopter, from which an older man came and took my hand, pulling me into the vehicle. He placed me down on the seat inside and sat beside me.

"Don't worry, you're safe now. It's going to take a while to fly to England, so try to get some sleep," he said, shutting the huge sliding door to the helicopter.

I looked up at him and yawned, falling into the deep sleep for which I had been waiting all night.

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Once I woke up, I found myself lying in a bed inside a huge room lit up by a small candle on the night stand next to me. I sat up in the bed, and looked around the lavishly constructed room. The walls were a pale peach color and there were intricate moldings against the ceiling and floor. It looked as if I were stuck on some movie set.

Distracted by my surroundings for less than a minute, I threw the covers off my body and jumped on the floor. I looked down at myself only to see that the soot from the fire had gotten to my clothing. I ran to the door and opened it to find a pitch black hallway. The only light I saw was the light coming from the crack of one of the doors. I ran to the door and opened it, finding a staircase.

I took a deep breath and ran down the stairs, into another dark hallway, but not as dark as the preceding one. From one of the rooms, I heard what sounded like voices. I eventually found the room and sat outside the door to listen in to the conversation. Nothing particularly interested me, until they mentioned the name _'Maria'_.

"Mommy," I said, listening in more intently.

"I never expected something like this to happen," one of the voices said, sounding like an older man.

"Roger, where did you say they found her body," the other, more monotone voice said.

_Body_, I thought to myself. I edged in closer to the door, pressing my ear up against it.

"Somewhere by Venice…God, I can't believe she was murdered so brutally. She was such a great agent, too," the older voice said.

Murdered? There was no question to it now. My mother would never return to me; she was dead. Tears started to pour from my eyes and trail down my cheeks, but I bit my lip to keep from crying out loud.

"When should we tell him," the monotone voice said.

The other voice sighed. "I don't even know. He's only six years old, he may not understand."

"But he's remarkably intelligent, at least that's what Maria said," the monotone voice replied. There was a pause. "I'm going to my room, I have a lot of work to finish," the monotone voice continued. "Good night, Roger."

"Good night, L."

I heard footsteps come closer to the door.

I couldn't hold it in anymore. The second the door opened, I burst into a fit of tears and rage, screaming wildly. I looked up at the personification of one of the voices, but my vision was so blurred by the tears, all I could make out was a mess of black hair and horrible posture.

The figure looked down and then ran back into the room. "Roger," I heard from the monotone voice.

The figure returned with the other one. "Oh no," the older voice said.

I kept up with my cries and screams, but the older figure picked me up and held me in his arms. I could hear him asking me what was wrong.

I stopped crying and looked up at the two men, my vision being somewhat cleared away from tears. "Mommy's dead," I said, sniffling.

They said nothing.

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Thanks for readin'! Now, REVIEW, I tell you..._**REVIEW**_!!!!!!

-Erbby


	3. Two: Orphan

Okay, so I probably had the most writer's block with the chapter, but it's out! It's kinda short, like the previous two, and I just realized that the later chapters are going to be a lot longer, but I kinda wanted to get this one and the next two out before I go to...EUROPE! Yay! So, enjoy!

**Dissin' the Claimer**: Yeah, Death Note, Mello, L, and all of the fun orphans belong to Ohba & Obata...not me, but by Christ I WILL have Mello...some day...if the other fangirls don't kill me!

...Nothing really bad in this chapter; it's really just cute, to be perfectly honest...and only one itty, bitty _spoiler_, but that's it...ENJOY!

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_Chapter Two: Orphan_

I woke up the next morning in the same bed, in the same room, but with every memory of the previous night. Mother's dead? Murdered? And her mangled body was found somewhere in Rome? I couldn't comprehend it; I was only six years old, and now I was completely alone, with no one but myself.

I threw my hands over my eyes and sobbed violently. "Mommy," I screamed. I sat there in my depression for a few moments until the door opened.

I slowly pulled my hands from my face and saw a figure in the doorway. It was one of the men from last night, the younger one with crazy black hair. I looked at him with anger and screamed at him. "Get out!"

He gave no facial expression to my yell and walked over to my bed. "It's all right," he said, sitting on the bed.

He really was an odd character. He had to be no older than fifteen or sixteen years old, and his posture was horrible, his shoulders jutting out forward and his back hunched over. The dark circles under his eyes gave him the look of an insomniac. Who was this person?

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of bed. "Come on, I'll give you a tour," he said, walking out of the room, with me trailing behind. Half-way down the hall, we suddenly stopped and he turned to me. "Oh, by the way, I'm L," he said, smiling.

I stared up at him, my eyes wide. This man, there was something about him that I just couldn't put into thoughts or words. Turning his head around and continuing down the hall, I kept my eyes on him. I had only known him truly for a few minutes, but I was already bought in by him. There was something about his presence that made me cope with my mother's death. I just didn't understand why.

We made it to the staircase, and walked down. "This is Wammy's House," he said, "an orphanage for children of superior intellect and potential. The second floor is full of bedrooms, most of them accommodating two children. There are very few one child bedrooms."

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, we made it to the first floor of the building, walking down the hallway. "On the first floor is where all of the classrooms are. There's also the cafeteria, the salon, and Roger's office," he said, stopping in front of a door. "The bathrooms are also on this floor."

He opened the door and inside was a lavishly decorated bathroom. We walked inside to the back, where the baths were. "You're still so filthy from the fire last night. We can't have a sooty orphan here; that's not Wammy's style," he said, filling one tub with water.

He looked down at me, without emotion, and placed his right index finger in his mouth. "You might want to get undressed," he said.

I looked down at my shirt that had once been white, now completely covered in soot. I tossed my clothes off and jumped into the filling tub. I closed my eyes and sat in the running water.

"I'll be right back to get you a towel and some new clothes," he said, walking away. At the door, he turned back. "You know, you look pretty good in black. Don't drown while I'm gone!"

My eyes widened with fear when he left, the door slamming shut behind him. Don't drown? Yeah, that's reassuring, and yet, I laughed. I felt like I could trust him to be back before I decided to submerge myself underwater.

He came back quicker than I thought, long before I was done washing up. He dropped my clothes and a towel on the ground and sat beside the tub, his knees tucked into his chest.

"You know," he started in a soft, monotone voice. "I knew Maria, your mother."

I jerked my head towards him, staring. "You…you knew Mommy?"

He smiled sadly and nodded. "Yeah, but she left Wammy's just a few months after I arrived. I also worked with her on my first case last year. She was very smart and extraordinarily beautiful, but she always seemed so lonely." He closed his eyes and tucked his face in between his knees. "She never knew her parents and practically lived here from birth. I heard…that she fell in love with some man a few years after she left Wammy's."

I looked down at the water. "Mommy said that my father died right after she found out she was going to have me," I said, tears starting to emerge from my eyes.

He placed his hand on my head. "She must've been a very good mother to you, Mello," he said.

I looked up surprised. "Mello? But, my name's Miha…," I said before he stopped me.

"Not anymore," he said with a stern face. He looked away, his face lost. "It's required at Wammy's House to use an alias. Your real name can never be known," he said, then turned his attention back to me, "for safety's sake."

I sighed and looked down. "Alright," I said. "I guess my name is Mello, now." It was odd. Normally, I would've lashed out at someone for deciding something about me with my consent, but it's not like I had a choice in this case. Besides, I liked L. I wanted to get to know him, because he knew my mother, and his aura was so pleasant, I never wanted him to leave.

He smiled after a moment and grabbed the towel from the ground. "Well, you better get out of there before you turn into a raisin," he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me out of the tub. He wrapped me up in the towel and stared at me for a while. He reached his hand out and started to brush my hair, which, at the time, barely went down past my ears.

"Wow," he said. "You should grow out your hair. Longer hair would be more suitable for you."

I looked up at him and smiled. He patted my head and started for the door. "Well, dry up and get dressed. When your done, go back up to your room, and Roger and I will get you all set up here," he said. He stopped at the door and turned around. "Welcome to Wammy's House, Mello."

He left the bathroom and closed the door behind him. I laughed and tossed the towel off of me, quickly putting on my new black clothes. I smiled and ran to the door, hoping to make fun memories with my new hero, L.

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Yeah, kind of a gay ending, but he's six, goddammit! LOL! Please, review! Chapter Three should be out by the end of the week! 

_**ErBbY**_


	4. Three: Stripes

Wow...a new chapter in one day? Yeah, well, like I said, I had writer's block with the other one and I'm going to Europe next week (HOLY SHIT, BITCHES!), so I wanted to get this chapter and the next one out...ASAP! I **_REALLY_** like this chapter...it's cute and by the looks of the title, it's pretty obvious who's going to be in this one...YAY!

So, as I **Dis-the-Claimer** over here: Death Note, Mello, Matt, and all fo the fun joys and wonders of this chapter belong to my all mighty gods, Ohba & Obata...not me. Damn...

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_Chapter Three: Stripes_

During my first year at Wammy's House, I gained quite a reputation. First I became the number one student of the institute with no one even close to second, and I became quite a bad-ass, which is remarkable achievement for a seven year old. I also let my hair grow out, just as L suggested.

L came and went. He was busy working on cases and such, but I managed to update myself on his progress. Just the thought of L put a smile on my face and made me feel so secure. I couldn't wait for him to return from wherever he was.

However, there was one night when L was not on my mind. There was a storm that night. It was pouring with raging winds and I couldn't sleep with the loud noise of thunder right outside my window.

I sighed, lying on my bed and staring at the ceiling. My eyelids kept growing heavier but there was nothing I could do. I turned my head to the window. "Shut up, stupid storm," I said. My request was followed by a burst of bright light and load roar.

I groaned and threw a pillow over my head. "I wanna go to sleep!"

Just then, I heard the main door to the orphanage open and shut. I paused for a moment and ran out into the hallway, straight to the staircase. I could hear Roger speaking, but very softly.

"You'll be safe here," he said.

I quietly made my way down to the first floor and peeked into the hall, widening my eyes. There, clad in black and white stripes, was a red-haired boy holding Roger's hand. Roger managed to protect himself from the storm with a raincoat, but the boy was soaked down to his boots.

"Hey," I said walking into the hallway. "Who's that?" I pointed to the boy who was looking down.

Roger stared at me, surprised. "Mello, you're still up?"

I turned my head and looked up at the ceiling. "The storm kept me awake," I said, nonchalantly, but quickly averted my attention back on the boy. "Who's that?"

"Oh, him," Roger said. He kneeled down beside the boy, and spoke quietly. "This is Matt. I found him on the street while running errands earlier."

The boy lifted his head, revealing a patched up eye and bandages wrapped around his head.

I gasped. "What the hell happened to him," I screamed.

"Mello, lower your voice, and watch your language," Roger scolded. He placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "He was beaten up real bad when I found him, so I had to stop at the hospital to bandage him up." Roger stopped again and stared at me for a while. "Mello, you have two beds in your room, right?"

"Yeah, but JC's been gone for months now," I said, confused. Then it hit me. "You're giving me another roommate?!"

Roger walked over to me with the boy, putting his hand on my head. "Really, Mello, why are you so loud. Yes, Matt will be your roommate because you decided not to go to sleep tonight," he said.

"But I…"

"Upstairs, Mello," he said, letting go of the boy's hand and walking into his office.

"What a jerk, I don't want another roommate," I said, after Roger closed the door behind him. I glanced over at the boy and sighed. "Come on, Matt, let's go upstairs."

He didn't answer, nor did he speak until we got to the room. I shut the door behind us and sighed. "That's your bed," I said, pointing to the one closest to the door.

"Okay," he said, sitting down.

I walked over to my bed and plopped down, closing my eyes. The storm was still raging on, enough to prevent me from trying to fall asleep. There was only one thing left do; socialize with the new kid.

"So, Matt, what brings you to Wammy's House tonight," I said.

"You saw, that Roger guy brought me here," he said.

I jumped up and stared at him, a small smile on his mouth. "Very funny, wise guy," I said grimacing. I kept my eyes on him and focused in on the white wrappings around his head. "What happened to your left eye," I said, cautiously.

He sighed and lied back against the headboard. "I got beaten up by some people, and they cracked my glasses into my eye. I can't even see anything with my free eye right now. I think they were my family, but I can't really remember," he said, resting his arms behind his neck. "Actually, I can't remember much at all; only my name, my birthday, and the fact that my family doesn't want me."

Listening in, I realized that in his story, he showed no sort of sorrow, but more indifference. I didn't know how any child would be able to say that without bursting into tears.

"Wait, your birthday? That's random," I said, remembering the other part of his story that bothered me.

"Yeah, it's today," he said, laughing. "Happy seventh birthday, Mail."

"Not allowed!"

He looked over at me, his free eye wide open. "What?"

"Your name's Matt, got it," I said, waving my finger in a scolding manner.

He slid down from the headboard, lying completely down on the bed. "That's right. Roger said that my name's Matt now," he said, sighing. He sat up and turned to face me. "Well, hi! I'm Matt, and you?" His voice was filled with sarcasm, which no seven year old should really understand. This kid belonged here; he was perfect Wammy's material.

I laughed and stood up walking to his bed. "Welcome to Wammy's House, Matt. My name's Mello," I said, grabbing his hand in a shake.

He laughed and went along with it. "Nice to meet you," he said, smiling.

The handshake was filled with a strange energy. All of the anger that was in my body before about sharing my room melted away. There was something about this kid that filled me with a certain aura. Little did I know that he would become my closest, best, and only friend.

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Yeah, Matt wears glasses...but the goggle thing will come in another chapter...hope you liked this chapter...I DID! **REVIEW**, DAMN YOU! 

3R66y...i tried to be cool...didn't work much, did it! LOLZ!

-Erbby


	5. Four: White

Okay, so here's another chapter with an obvious title...who's going to be in this one, hmm? Okay, so, for those of you that displayed your jealousy or curiosity, yes, I'm going to Europe (France, Belgium, Austria, Switzerland, Germany) from this Saturday until the end of July, so The Otherside won't be updated again until early August (since I'll be working on the story there). Why, you ask? Hmm, well, most of you don't know my 'title talent'...I'm a choir nerd, so I'll be singing my ass off! So, here's chapter four!

**Disclaim**: Aw, that wasn't creative! Anyway, Death Note, Mello, Matt, Near...aw jeez! You get the picture...I DON'T OWN THEM! Ohba & Obata do...beware of some **_language_** in this chapter...that's about all...ENJOY!

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_Chapter Four: White_

"Got any 3's?"

"Go fish."

"What?!" I tossed my cards down in aggravation to the sound of Matt's negative response.

"Hey, calm down, Mello. Don't get your panties in a knot," Matt said, picking up a card from the deck. "Here."

I looked at him, snatching the card from his hand. I stared at it and looked back up at him.

"What, 'snot a 3?"

I rolled my eyes and fell back onto the ground. "I'm done with this stupid game, Matt," I said, throwing the card back to him.

He sighed, gathering up the cards. "Don't get mad at me. You wanted to play 'go fish'."

I sat up and glared at him. "Shut up," I said. There was a pause and I watched Matt intently as he slid the cards back into their box.

"I need chocolate," I said, standing up.

"You ran out of bars again," Matt said, looking up at me from above his tinted frames.

"Yeah, I know where the cafeteria keeps the secret stash." I bent down and grabbed his wrist, pulling him up from the ground.

"Hey, Mello wait, it's already 11:30! I wanna get some sleep," he said, whining.

"Just…shut up, Matt." We managed to quietly make it down the hall and down the stairs to the kitchen. Of course, I easily found the chocolate and opened one of the boxes, grabbing as many bars that my small body would allow me to take.

"Come on, Matt, why are you just standing there? Help me out!"

He sighed and pulled out the bottom of his striped shirt, letting me stow away more chocolate bars. "Oh yeah, this sure is inconspicuous, Mello."

"Matt, do I have to repeat myself?"

"I know, I know…shut up," he said, sighing. "How the hell did this chocolate addiction of yours start, anyhow?"

I stopped in my tracks, two bars still in my hands, and smiled softly. "I guess it's all L's fault," I said. "My mother…never allowed me to have sweets. She said they made me act wild and out of control. Well, now that I think about, I guess she was right."

"You don't say," Matt said, laughing.

I jabbed him in the side with my elbow, sending him straight to the ground, along with all of the chocolate he was carrying. "Anyway, as I was saying, when I first came here, L decided to have me try different kinds of sweets, but the first and only thing I tried was a bar of chocolate."

Matt regained his stance and picked up all of the fallen chocolate.

"I refused any of the other sweets; I just wanted the chocolate, and he just smiled at me," I said, staring at Matt. He stared right back and we shared a soft smile together, until an abrupt noise interrupted our moment.

"This is the Wammy's House, right?" It was the voice of a screaming woman.

"What the…"

"I think it's coming from Roger's office," I said, walking out of the kitchen. Matt followed me out into the hallway, where we spotted Roger's door wide open. Inside was a woman with long dark hair and beside her was a small child, dressed only in white. Even the kid's hair was white.

"Whoa, that's creepy," Matt said.

I threw my hand over his mouth. "Matt, shut up," I said. I looked around, making sure that no one was in the hall. With a cleared path, I dragged Matt across the hall into the stairwell, along with all of the stolen chocolate in our possession.

I peeked out the door and stared down the hall towards Roger's room.

"What was that for," Matt whined.

I turned my head around and glared at him. "Matt, I swear to God I'll kick your ass if you don't shut up! I just wanna see what's going on," I said, "but I can't let Roger see us with all of this chocolate."

He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Oh, and you think that when Roger sees all of the missing chocolate tomorrow, he's not going to even _think_ about suspecting you?" He laughed and leaned his head out the door below mine. "But you know that I'll take the blame with you," he said, looking up. "My reputation's been destroyed just by rooming with you."

I looked down into his eyes, past the peach tinted lenses. There was no malice or sarcasm in his eyes; only undying loyalty and devotion to a friend. I shook my head and let out a laugh. "Yeah, let's just keep listening," I said, turning my attention back to the hall.

"Madam, please lower your voice, there are children who are asleep in this building," I heard Roger say.

"I don't care! Just get this…this thing away from me," she yelled, followed by a loud thump upon.

"Madam, what are you doing," Roger yelled, raising his voice.

I turned my head to Matt and grabbed his collar.

"Hey, Mello," he started.

"Matt, go upstairs and take the chocolate with you," I said, staring right into his confused eyes.

"But…"

I pulled him in closer. "Now!"

He shook me away and gathered all of the chocolate in his arms. "I better get a good explanation about all this later," he said, running upstairs, with a hint of anger in his voice.

Once he disappeared, I inched my way down the hall, stopping outside of Roger's door. The spot was filled with a hint of uncomfortable nostalgia; it was the same place where I heard the news of my murdered mother two years prior. I peered into the room, curious of the happenings, and of course, the sounds.

Roger was helping the boy up from the ground; the woman must've tossed him down in her rage. I caught a glimpse of the boy's face, which sent shivers down my spine. He was completely expressionless, as if he was lost in a fantasy world and unaware of the abuse from his mother. "Holy shit…," I started to say, only to be found out by Roger.

"Mello," he said, "what are you doing up at this hour?"

Sighing, I walked into the room with my hands raised mockingly like a criminal's. "I…heard raised voices, and I guess I couldn't sleep," I said, half-lying.

"Yes, I guess so," he said, throwing me a scolding look.

The woman turned her head, revealing her disgusting face. She looked me over and sneered. "One of your famed freaks, eh Mr. Roger?"

"Thanks," I said, returning the gesture. I walked over to the white boy and looked up at Roger. "So, we have another one?"

Roger let out a small laugh and shook his head. "Mello, you sure have a bad habit of being the first one to greet the newcomers here," he said.

The woman threw her head back and started for the door. "Well, I've very happy you decided to welcome that thing as one of your own," she said, leaning on the door frame. "Just keep that thing away from me. There's no way I could ever love a child like that. Just…get it out of my sight!" She left into the hallway and moments later, I heard the main entrance door slam shut.

I stood there in disbelief and fell to my knees. "How…how can someone say that about their own child," I said aloud to myself.

"There are people like that in this world, Mello," Roger started, walking out of the room with the boy by his side. He stopped at the doorway and looked back at me. "The trick is learning how to deal with them." He disappeared into the hallway.

Snapping back into reality, I stood up and chased Roger and the boy up the stairs. "So, he's staying here?"

At the top of the stairs, he looked down towards me. "The bedroom next to yours and Matt's, it's a single, right?"

All I could do was nod and watch as they disappeared into the second floor hallway. "Wait!" I ran up the stairs and into the hallway, only to see the door next to my room shut close. I sighed and dropped my head, walking into my room.

I was greeted with a nice warm, "What the hell was that?" I looked over at Matt, sitting at the edge of his bed. It was obvious that he was pissed at me, and why not? I've never treated him like that before.

"Yeah, sorry about that Matt," I said, walking over to my bed, trying to find a place to sit amongst the swarm of chocolate bars. I grabbed one and plopped down on my bed, ripping off the foil wrapping. I bit into it and ended my few hours of chocolate sobriety. "It was just…that kid."

I could feel his anger subside into concern. "What about him," he said.

I sighed and tossed my head into my free hand, tearing up. I couldn't explain what was flowing through my veins or what was causing me to cry. I was still young and unaware of anything. There was a certain aura emanating from the child I just met and I just couldn't explain what it was. However, little did I know that the feeling was something called rivalry; Roger named the boy "Near".

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Another ending that I liked! Well, review and until we meet again...be ready for some updates in August! 

-_**erbby**_


	6. Five: KIRA

So, guess who's back from Europe! That's right, bitches...**ERBBY**! And on top of that, I'm listening to really cheezy ENGLISH Sailor Moon music...oh yeah...it's painful! So, aside from that fact...my trip was amazing! And I even got to work on this story here! And here's some of the fruits of my labor! And boy, do I love this friggin' chapter!

**Dis-my-Claimer...bitch:** NO! I DON'T OWN Death Note, Mello, Matt, Near...or all that other bullshit...okay? Get over yourselves, people! Also, in this chapter, you best beware of some **SPOILERS** (only if you've been living under a rock, if you don't know of the spoiler at the end of this chapter, then why the hell are you even reading this story!?), some **language**, and some **FLUFF**! Tee hee, yeah, it's not that kind of story, but it's mine and I want _SLIGHT YAOI ELEMENTS, DAMMIT!_

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_Chapter Five: KIRA_

By the following week, Near managed to surpass me and became the top student at the institute. My two year reign as number one at Wammy's House come to a painful halt; there was nothing I hated more than being second best.

But there was more to Near that bothered me. I wasn't sure if it was just his traumatic reaction to child abuse, but he rarely spoke and always carried a blank expression on his face.

"What's wrong with you," I would ask him.

His response was always the same. An unemotionally blunt, "Nothing."

I started to doubt my reasoning that his personality was a result of abuse whenever I looked into his eyes. They were like stones, softly sitting upon a cold pool of white water; never moving, always still.

"Maybe that's why his mom didn't want him anymore," Matt would explain to me. Of course, that did make sense, but nothing about Near sat right with me, like stale chocolate.

However, all of that changed toward the end of the year, 2003, right before my fourteenth birthday. There was a biology test, and I managed to score a point higher than Near. I ran down the hallway to L's room; he had just returned from America and I couldn't wait to show him proof that I was more suitable than Near to succeed in his name.

"L! Look, take a look at this!" I burst into the room, being welcomed by the sound of cold vacancy. "L?" I looked around the room, finding nothing but an unfinished cup of tea. I walked over the cup and peered inside, seeing nothing but the reflection of my sad face.

"You just missed him," said an intruding voice.

Turning my head slowly, I saw Near hiding by the door. "He said he couldn't find you, so he left you this letter instead," he said, holding out a piece of paper. I hurried over to the door and snatched to letter from his hand, unfolding it frantically. I scanned it with my eyes, confused by its content.

"What? Who the hell is…"

"KIRA," Near said, finishing my sentence.

I took my eyes off the note and averted my attention to Near, holding a Japanese newspaper. "See?" He held it up for me to see the headline.

"Mysterious criminal deaths; a message from KIRA," I read. I paused and kept staring at the paper. "What?"

He folded the paper up and moved to leave the room. "You should really be on top of things like this, Mello," he said disappearing into the hallway.

I took a deep breath in, holding back my tears. Japan? KIRA? Mysterious criminal deaths? Why would L leave without telling me? I stared at the tea cup and shook my head, leaving the room.

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It was the early summer of the following year. Matt and I were hanging out in our usual spot on the side of the building during recess. 

"So, for one week now," he started, "these murders have stopped, eh?" His eyes were fixated on the screen of his game console.

"Yeah, that's what the Japanese news reports are saying," I said, leaning against the brick next to him.

He puffed some smoke from the cigarette in his mouth and adjusted his goggles, looking over at me. "Why are you so glum," he asked me, in mock sympathy.

I sighed and slid down the ground. "I just feel like this fucking KIRA case has been the only thing on my mind for the past seven months."

Matt put his game on pause and knelt beside me, staring into my eyes through the thick lenses of his goggles. He'd only started wearing them a couple of years ago. Along with the new smoking habit, he thought the two factors did justice to his cool image. I just thought he looked like a fucking idiot.

"Well, if you're so absorbed in this case, then why don't you talk to Near about it. He probably cares about it a hell of a lot more than I do," he said wrapping his shoulder around me. "I know you can't stand the kid, but it might lighten up your mood."

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I took Matt's advice and walked inside, where all the anti-social kids played during recess. Walking down the hallway, I looked into every room to see if Near was hiding in any of them, and sure enough, I found him standing all alone in an empty room. 

I stood outside and leaned on the door frame. "You're not playing with a puzzle," I asked, folding my arms across my chest.

Slowly, he turned his head to the doorway and widened his eyes once he spotted me. "Mello?"

A laugh escaped from under my breath and I walked into the room. "Yeah, I've been bothered by this KIRA case and Matt doesn't really care, so I thought I would talk to you about the delay in the killings," I said.

Near smiled and softly let his head fall down. "Thank you," he whispered.

I lost my breath, taken aback by the scene I was watching.

"You know," he started, tilting his head towards the window opposite of the door. "It always makes me happy when Mello wants to talk to me, because…I know you don't care for me all that much." He looked back over at me, giving me a sad, somber face. This was definitely a first; Near was showing emotion.

"Yeah, well, I know that you're the only other person keeping up with the KIRA case, so I figured," I said, walking over to Near. I stared right into his sad eyes; it looked as if he were going to cry.

He took in a deep breath and tossed his body into mine, grasping onto to me with what little strength he had in his body. With his head buried into my chest, I could feel my shirt start to soak with Near's tears. "What…what the hell," I started to say.

Near looked up at me and shook his head. "I…don't know," he said, wrapping his arms tighter around me.

I just stood there, trying to breathe, but the air refused to fill up in my lungs. This had only happened once before, and I was just as confused as the last time.

"Mello," Near said, breaking the awkward silence.

Quickly, I looked down at his white face. "What," I said.

He took his time to speak, brushing his face against the cloth of my shirt. "You…miss L a lot, don't you," he said.

Astounded, a small laugh escaped past my lips. "Well, yeah, of course I miss him," I said.

His grip on my body loosened and he sighed. "Oh," he started. "Well, I guess that makes one of us."

My eyes widened in offense, and I pushed Near off of me. I looked at him and saw that he reverted back to his emotionless self. "What the hell are you saying," I said, giving him a nasty look. "You don't like L or something?"

His hand slowly reached up to his hair, twirling the curly white strands around his small fingers. "Maybe," he said distantly.

I turned myself to the door and started to walk out of the room. "Asshole…you don't even like the guy and you think you can call yourself his successor?" My voice was filled with disgust and anger.

"No." His answer was quick and matter-of-fact, stopping me in my tracks. I looked back over my shoulder, my eyes widened . "I never called myself L's successor; that was Roger's decision." He walked over to me, but this time I felt an eerie aura about him. From behind, he softly wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his cheek against my shoulder blade.

Again, I found myself breathless and I lost all train of thought. "Actually, Mello," he said. "I always thought that you would be a better successor to L, rather than me. You're just so different from him."

I kept my arms still at my side and dropped my head, staring at the floor. I could feel the tears start to well up; it always happened when L's name came up in conversation. "What the hell are you talking about? It's because you're so much like him that makes you a better candidate," I said, feeling the tears stroll down my cheeks. I knew that Near was first; it wasn't even worth humoring myself.

Suddenly, I felt the weight of his head lift from my back. He spun me around, forcing me to look into his eyes. There was a cynical smile on his lips and he started to laugh. He let go of my body and fell to the ground, still laughing.

It took him a while to get a hold of himself, and I just kept staring at him, scared of what else I might see from this white bundle of surprises. He regained his stance and stared at me, the small smile remaining on his lips. "You see, Mello, you just made me laugh…for the first time in my life," he said.

I gasped, my eyes growing larger.

"I really like you, Mello…a lot," he said, tilting his head to the side and staring off into the distance of the room. "But…I think I envy you more. In just one day, you go through twice the amount of emotions that I have even experienced in my life. My intelligence level may be as high as L's, and we have similar personalities, but you have the one thing that we both lack." He stared back into my eyes, placing his hands on my cheeks and bringing his face into mine. "Passion."

In the next instant, he closed his eyes and…he kissed me.

My heart started to race and I couldn't move; my whole body froze. I lost all sense of time and reality in one spontaneous moment. He finally eased his lips from mine, after what seemed like an eternity, and I felt the air quickly fill up into my lungs.

He stared at me and smirked, walking towards the door. There was a short pause before I heard him speak again.

"By the way," he started, "I bet you would like to know that the KIRA killings have resumed."

I gasped and turned to the doorway, but Near was gone, and I was left speechless.

* * *

It finally came; the day I could never forget, no matter how hard I tried. December 5th, 2004: it was a warm day for so late in the season. I stayed outside during recess to pick on some kids, while Matt decided to chill inside with some video games. After recess, I walked inside with the rest of the kids, finding Roger in the hallway. 

I was still teasing this one boy when Roger interrupted me. "Mello, I need to see you in my office," he said, grabbing my wrist.

He dragged me down the hallway, passing the room in which Near was playing. "Near, I need to speak with you as well."

Near got up from his spot on the floor and followed us into Roger's office. Once inside, he sat in his desk, with a somber look on his face. Near and I stood on the floor, across from his desk.

"What is it, Roger," I said, annoyed.

He took in a deep breath and slowly opened his mouth. "L is dead."

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Oh yeah, check out that ending there! And of course, there was a reference to my promotional short story, _"Tears Like Snow"_ in that M/N Fluffy scene! Tee hee! So please, review...that'd be nice! 

-**_erbzie_**


	7. Six: L

So, here's the next chapter, a bit short, but still very good...mostly emotional. Again, the first part is basically _Chapter 61_ of the original manga in _Mello's POV_, so most of you (hopefully all!) know what's going on.

**Dishhhclaimahhh:** I just love doing that! Okay, so I don't own Death Note...props to Ohba and Obata, there! Also, there is some **language** in this chapter, but I really think it's just one word! LOL! Enjoy!

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_Chapter 6: L_

"L is dead."

I never thought that a single sentence would ever leave me so stunned. I stood there, my jaw dropped and my eyes forced open from the shock.

"Dead? Why?" I ran up to Roger's desk and slammed my hands down on the oak finish, stuttering in my speech. "You mean…KIRA killed him…is that what happened?"

"Probably," Roger answered softly.

I nearly climbed onto the desk, pulling Roger out of his seat by the collar of his coat. "He said he would see KIRA dead! Are you sure that L's been killed?"

"Mello," he said, frightened.

The next sound I heard was the sound of puzzle pieces clattering on the ground. "If you can't beat the game, if you can't solve the puzzle, then you're nothing but a loser," Near said from behind.

I turned around, watching him shake away the remaining puzzle pieces from the board, lifted in the air. "So, then which one of us did L…" I started, backing away from Roger.

There was a pause. "Neither of you," Roger started. "And he can't now. He's dead, Mello." Again, I stood there with a stunned expression. "Mello, Near, why don't you two work together on this case," Roger said after a pause.

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," Near said again. I couldn't stand it…at all. His voice was agitating me, and I glanced back at him, biting my lip in disgust.

"I don't think that's possible, Roger," I said, narrowing my eyes at the older man. "You know that Near and I don't get along so well; we're always competing." And it was true. Near was always first, ever since his appearance at the orphanage seven years before, and I was always second best, no matter how hard I tried. Even that one time didn't matter, because L wasn't there to see my accomplishment.

"It's fine, Roger," I started speaking again. "Near can take L's name. He'll solve the case without letting any emotions get in the way." I heard the clacking, again. That fucking puzzle…

"I'm going to leave the orphanage, Roger," I said, shuffling my feet towards the door.

I heard Roger call my name from behind, but nothing could stop me. "I'm going to be fifteen soon, anyway, Roger. I'm going to live life my own way," and I left the room.

Walking into the hallway, I harshly shut the door behind me, only to be greeted by a familiar voice.

"What are you so pissed about," Matt said, leaning against the wall across the hall, his arms folded in front of his chest. He had an awkward smile on his face and I spotted the unpleasant look in his eyes through the tinted frames of his goggles.

I turned and made my way to the stairs. "Shut up, Matt." I kept my quick pace up the stairs, but he managed to follow me anyway, despite my unwelcoming aura. "_Stop following me_," I said at the top of the stairs.

Up at the landing, he pushed my body up against the wall, pulling his goggles down to hang around his neck. "I heard everything, Mello, now stop being such a bitch and tell my why the fuck you're leaving," he said sternly.

"_Don't touch me_," I screamed, pushing him from my body. I opened the door to the upstairs hallway and stormed into my room. I had to leave, I knew what to do, and I knew how to pull it off. It had to be that night, obviously, which only gave me a few hours to plan and pack.

Matt soon came into the room; I could smell the cigarette smoke that always lingered on his body. He closed the door and sat down on his bed. There was a long silence before he opened his mouth to speak. "Is he really dead?"

I stopped in my maddening panic and finally took in the information for what it was. L was dead, defeated by KIRA. He lost, and I would never see him again. All of those thoughts rushed through my head in an instant, and I burst into a fury of tears. I tossed my body on my bed, absorbing my tears in the sheets, but that wasn't enough to suffice. I was in such a state where rational behavior was completely forgotten, but that was usually my case in everyday life.

I suddenly felt a hand on my head. I looked up, seeing Matt on my bed. "Don't cry, you girl," he said soothingly. His goggles were still loosely hanging from his neck. His eyes looked tired and sad, as if the news hit him just as hard, but they were also soft and comforting.

I fell into his chest and just cried. There was really nothing else left to do. At that moment, I was reduced to my childhood state from nine years past, but this was worse. Despite how much I loved my mother, L was my hero, my life, my everything. Hell, I even considered the man my God! He was so much bigger to me than anyone else in the world and his death was like my own. I was nothing without him.

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"You're leaving now?" Matt was sitting on his bed, holding his DS in hand, but all of his attention was on me.

I stood by the door, my hand pressed against the golden knob, my bag hauled over my back, and my purpose mapped out. "Yeah," I said in a breathy tone. I slowly turned my head to him. "I'm not coming back." My attention returned to the door and I pushed it open. "Goodbye, Matt," I said, letting a white envelope with his name on it fall to the ground.

There was no turning back. I shut the door and walked to the stairwell, without ever looking back down the hall. I opened the door to the stairs and started my way down, until a white blotch interrupted the darkness.

"So you _are_ leaving," Near said blankly, standing on the middle landing of the stairwell. He was staring at me with his still eyes, but it was almost as if he were scolding me.

I kept going down the stairs and stopped at the middle landing to face him. "Yes, I am," I said. "And I forgot to congratulate you before on succeeding in L's name."

I continued my pace down the stairs. "What if I didn't want to be congratulated," he said softly. I turned around and stared at him with wide eyes. He looked…broken, lost, and pathetic. Was that the only emotion he had in that little body of his? He slowly raised his hands to his face and started to cry.

I couldn't bear to watch; I continued down the stairs, but it was obvious that Near wouldn't let me. He grabbed onto my jacket and buried his face into my back.

I closed my eyes, breathing in deeply. "No, let go, Near, I have to go," I said, shaking him off me. I ran down the stairs and looked back at him. He was a mess, huddled on the steps, tears coating his cheeks. All I could do was laugh, but I stopped myself. It wasn't the time for that; we were both in delicate conditions, but obviously for different reasons. I had to go, and if Matt couldn't stop me, then Near had no chance in hell of making me stay.

I pulled a small envelope from my pocket and placed it on a step below Near, but he just stared at me, paying no interest to the gift I left for him. "A little memento of me," I said, moving towards the hall. "Goodbye."

I disappeared into the hallway, and out of the front door. With L dead, and Near left to follow in his footsteps, there was only one thing left to do; live life my own way.

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Yeah, a gay and predictable ending sentence...but that's what he said when he left Wammy's! So that's what he's saynig in my story, DAMMIT! 

Please, REVIEW, my pretties! **REVIEW**! MWAHAHAHAHA...ahem...sorry...

-**_erbzzzbitch_**!


	8. Seven: Independence

Chapter chapter chapter seven...yup, this is kinda my "filler" chapter, but still necessary...it's really just the link between the last chapter and the one coming, but it's still _important_!!!!!!!!! So...

**Disclaims-in-progress**: Death Note/Mello...not mine, got it? Ohba/Obata's...got it? THANX! Now, this chapter's got some surprises in it, such as **language** and **adult situations**...is that good enough? I don't know...**Erbby's** Current Mood: _Indifferent_.

**_READ_**!

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_Chapter Seven: Independence_

Snow; I hate snow, and I hated it even more when I was stuck in it for almost three weeks. I had left the Wammy's House in Winchester and tried to go as far north in the country that I possibly could.

It was on Christmas Day, almost two weeks after my worst birthday ever, that I managed to reach Nottingham. Snow was everywhere, and there was _only_ snow. Not a single person was out on the streets, not a single store open. I was alone, hungry, and cold. All my chocolate was gone; I only had enough to last me a few days, and I was starting to feel sick from the withdrawal.

When my legs grew tired and weak, I leaned my back against the brick wall of a building. "Well, what are you doing outside, today," a voice said from the white oblivion of snow. I turned my head to the left and saw that the voice belonged to a very large man with a slick smile across his face. With our eyes meeting, he gave me a wink. "A pretty thing like you should not be alone on a day like today."

I quickly regained my energy and pushed myself from the wall, giving him a dirty look. "Shut up, fat ass," I said, walking further down the street, away from the shady looking man. "You don't know me!" I was trying to get away from him, but because of my lack of strength, he quickly caught up to, wrapping his arm around my small frame.

"Now, now, calm down," he started, controlling my body down the snow covered street. "Why is such a pretty girl like you without a friend on Christmas Day?"

"GIRL!?" I elbowed him in the stomach and ran down the street. It was my hair, my goddamn hair that welcomed me to the nine year cycle of girl jokes from the orphanage, all thanks to the request of a dead man…

I stopped in my tracks at the thought of L, which gave the heavy set man an advantage. He grabbed me and threw his grimy hand over my mouth. "I don't like it when my girls are frisky," he said, dragging me into an alley way and tossing me onto the cold concrete.

"Fuck you," I screamed, spitting at him.

He slapped me across the face and grabbed my wrists, lowering his body down on mine. "If you're not nice to Santa, you won't get a good present," he said, gritting his teeth.

Fortunately, I still had enough strength to knee him right in the crotch. "You fuck face, I'm not a girl!" I kept thrashing about, but he still had the upper hand.

"Oh well, there's nothing wrong with little boys either," he said laughing.

It was definitely the most awkward and frightening experience of my life. I was about to fall victim to rape from a _pedophile_, nonetheless. Luckily, I was saved when a snowball smacked the man in the back of his skull.

"Is this really an appropriate act to be practicing on the anniversary of Our Savior's birth," a familiar voice said from above. I looked over the man's shoulder and there he was: goggles, stripes, cigarette, and all. Matt looked down at me and shook his head. "Really, Mello, on Christmas?"

The man's face scrunched into and evil scowl. "You little asshole," he said, turning his head around. "Can't you see that I'm busy?"

However, the man's threat was interrupted by a cigarette butt to the eye. He leapt up and grabbed his face, screaming in pain.

"Merry Christmas," Matt said, and he pulled me up from the ground.

We got out of the alley and ran away from the man, hiding in another nearby alley. Out of breath, Matt laughed and threw his hand on my shoulder. "Only you, Mello," he started, "would get raped by some fat, smelly guy on Christmas."

Immediately, I punched him in the stomach and his body toppled over. "What the hell took you so long," I yelled when he raised his head.

"Well, I had to wait a few days before I left the orphanage. Then there was the whole 'finding you' thing," he said, gasping for air.

I rolled my eyes and watched him pull a piece of paper from his pocket. "You're letter said 'somewhere south of Sheffield,' so I had to check every fucking town."

I stared at the letter, remembering the night I left Wammy's. It seemed like such a long time, but had only been twenty days. "Thanks," I whispered.

He laughed under his breath and leaned his head on my shoulder. "No problem," he said. "Oh, and I got the money."

I glanced over at him. "All of it?"

"Yup," he said, nodding. "The money from my account, yours, and your share of L's inheritance, which for 25, is a hell of a lot of money!"

I laughed and held out my hand, waiting for Matt to hand me my long awaited chocolate. It wasn't long before I clutched it and ripped it open, biting into it like a ravenous beast. I felt all of the energy flow back into my body.

"I'd have to be an idiot to forget your chocolate, Mello," he said, pulling out a fresh cigarette.

I sighed and stared up at the grey and white sky. "So, you read the entire letter," I said, throwing the last bit of chocolate in my mouth.

He lit up his cig, took in a puff, and exhaled a ball of smoke. "Yeah," he said, in a serious tone. "What was up with that shit? I thought you said that your dad was dead?"

I closed my eyes and inhaled the smoke and air around me. It had been on my mind for a while; since the night I came to Wammy's House, actually. So many things about that day just didn't add up. My mother left the house that night to go looking for a certain person: my father.

My father, Michael Keehl, died in an accident before I was born. He met my mother a few years after she left the Wammy's House and after she established herself as a successful government agent. She met him, fell in love, and told him that she was pregnant with his child.

He died the following day. In acceptance of his death, she legally gave herself his name, Keehl. When I was born, she gave to me the name Mihael, which was a similar version of his name. She said that I was proof of their love, even though they only knew each other for about a week.

Then, she found him alive almost seven years after his supposed "death." She was killed looking for him and our house was set to flames; the house in which I was asleep, or was supposed to be asleep. It would only make sense; only one thing about this mess of information could make sense.

"He…killed my mother," I said after a long pause.

Matt abruptly stopped puffing smoke from his cigarette. "What," he said softly.

I shook my head and let it drop, facing the ground. I could feel the anger fill up in my body with the very thought of that man. "He didn't die, I just know it! He's not dead! He completely faked it, and when my mother found out, he killed her! He fucking killed her!" I spoke in an angry rush.

"Calm down," Matt said, placing his arm around my shaking body. I looked up at him, feeling the sweat drip down my face. It could have been a result of my lack of diet and sleep, but I knew that it was from the harsh memories of being caught in that fire.

I reached up my hand and placed it on his arm, turning my head away from him. "No, its okay, I'm fine," I said in denial. "The KIRA case is more important than this, it's just…" I paused in mid-sentence and jerked my head back towards Matt's sympathetic face.

"This is important, too," he said gently.

I laughed and leaned my head onto his arm. I was so thankful that I knew someone like Matt; someone so devoted to me, he would take his life for my sake or wander the streets of north England to look for me. I knew that Matt would help me, and I had accepted his friendship since the beginning.

* * *

WHOA! Is that...an original story developing that I sense? Yes...I gave Mello a douche-bag dad! HA HA HA! So, be alert...the next chapter is pretty exciting! 

Oh...and P.S: Sorry about the almost-raping-of-Mello in this chapter, but hey, #1-he's alone on a quite, snowy street on christmas day, and hell, you've got to admit, his appearnce does resemble that of a small girl...I fucking _love_ the guy and I see that! and #2-I had to give Matt an awesome entrance...come on, that cigarette butt thing was _**KICK-ASS**_!

So REVIEW, damn you, **_REVIEW_**!

-**erbs wuz heer**


	9. Eight: Father

UGH! I hate this...I've been tryin' to uplaod this FRIGGIN' chapter all day today and FINALLY! URG! Anyway...

...here it is...the big one! This is the longest chapter in my ENTIRE story (about twice the length on any of the other chapters) and is truly, 100 my own. And I am very proud of it. . 

So...**d_IS_cLaimErama**: As always with my stupid disclaimer thing...I DO NOT OWN DEATH NOTE, despite the fact how much I want one...I don't even have a Shinigami! Ahem, Mello and Matt belong to Ohba/Obata...but this chapter is ME! Also, this is probably the chapter that will have me debating much about ratings...be ready to experience harsh (and I mean harsh) **language**, bloody **violence**, some **suggestive situations**, and there's a bomb in this chapter, too, so please beware of **explosives**, as well. Thank you for taking your time through the last 7 (but really, 8 because of the prologue) chapters...this is the important one!

Please, ENJOY!_

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_Chapter Eight: Father_

Through our research, Matt and I found that he did, in fact, exist. Michael Keehl was alive and well, and was also CEO of some huge Italian conglomerate. Oddly enough, the only records we could find on him were dated a few years after my birth; all previous records were virtually nonexistent.

However, the most interesting fact about this man was footage we found of a press conference held in late of 2006, about KIRA. Michael Keehl said, "KIRA is a necessity to the world. He is law and governs the main principles of human morale. Without KIRA, this world is nothing but a rotten, disgusting mess. So, our company has decided to recognize KIRA as our Lord and absolute rule."

Just listening to him speak made me sick, and his little speech on KIRA only inspired me more to hunt him down and eliminate him. Matt was with my through and through, helping me plan the heist on Michael's main base building, about 50 miles north of Rome.

It was a few months after the press conference, in the early spring of 2007. We must've arrived at the building no later than midnight, and some of the lights were still on in the building. Matt and I researched the man entirely, and knew that this building was not only the main base for the corporation, but his home as well.

We entered the building and I walked passed the guard and into the elevator hall. "Excuse me," he said. "There is no admittance in the building past 10 o' clock. You're going to have to leave."

I stopped in my tracks and turned around, walking back to the security desk. "Listen, I have a private appointment with Mr. Keehl. I believe he's in his apartment on the sixth floor, so if you'll excuse me," I said, walking back to the elevator.

The guard kept staring at me until Matt knocked him out cold. He hopped over the desk and sat down at the computer, lighting up a cigarette.

"That's right, sir," he said in a mocking tone, playing with the keyboard. "You should hurry up to the sixth, or you'll be late."

The elevator door opened and I walked in. "You make a shitty secretary, Matt."

"Just call me when you're finished," he yelled as the doors closed, sending me up.

The elevator ride wasn't that exciting, until the doors opened. The sixth floor looked like any ordinary hallway, with the exception that there was only one door with a tag by the side, reading, "Michael Keehl." I took in a deep breath and pulled my gun from inside my jacket, forcing the door open.

* * *

And there he was, sitting on a couch with a blond to the left and a brunette on the right, like a typical, sleazy businessman. He was a lot older than them, probably in his mid-fifties, but it was obvious that he did everything in his power to stop his own aging. He had slick, greasy brown hair, parted to the side, and his facial features were sharp and rigid. His mouth was thin, between two slivers of lips and his narrowed eyes had little black dots in the center of white slits. This man was Michael Keehl…my father.

"Who the fuck are you," he said, scrunching his brow.

I kept my eyes on him and pointed my gun to his chest, revealed by an open suit jacket. The girls screamed, but he held them closer.

"Now, now, ladies," he said. "If you move, you'll get shot. So just shut up and let me find out who this little fucker is and why the hell he's in my apartment."

I cocked the gun and moved my target to the center of his forehead. "I suggest that the girls leave as soon as possible, Michael. We have a lot to talk about."

"Bullshit, they're not going anywhere," he said, ironically pushing them off the couch.

"Who are you, anyway, you little shit?"

I started to smirk, but immediately caught myself, keeping the gun aimed straight at his skull. "Maria's son."

I saw his expression change and his body went limp. "Get outta here, girls, before he blows your brains out," he said in stern silence. Quickly, the girls scurried from the ground and ran out the door, shutting it behind them.

"I suppose that you've been planning this for a while," he said, looking up at me with menacing eyes, "Mihael."

I harshly breathed in. "Of course she would tell you my name, before she died, that is" I said, grinding my teeth. With each passing second, I found myself hating this man more and more with a growing passion.

He stood up, sliding his hands in his pockets and walking towards me. "Put the gun away, boy, unless you don't want to hear the tragic story of your mother's death."

I cautiously lowered my gun, and smirked maliciously. "Do tell," I said sarcastically. This was the moment for which I was waiting; the story right from the murderer's mouth.

Walking passed me, he locked the door and started to pace around the room. "It all started about eighteen years ago," he started, pacing about the room, but keeping his eyes locked on me. "I was a rising star on the corporate ladder. The business that I worked for was heavily supported by the Italian government." He paused. "One night, a few co-workers and I went out drinking and in the bar we found a beautiful young woman, no older than twenty years old. She had these piercing blue eyes and flowing, blond curls, like an angel from above, no doubt. We knew her as 'Maria'."

My mother told me the story of how they met a thousand times before, but this rendition was by far my least favorite. He continued. "She was, well, not a well known spy, but it was common knowledge that she was working against the Italian government and had enough information against them to cripple my company. So, my co-workers and I decided to take advantage of her. I was the prime candidate, being the youngest, and I waltzed over to her to introduce myself. She instantly fell in love.

"I humored her for a week or two, keeping up with the 'love' act, until she came to me and told me that she was pregnant."

"With me," I said, quickly interjecting.

He gave me a look of surprise and started to laugh. "Well, we must have a little genius over here," he said.

Again, I raised my gun to his head. "You don't know the half of it, dirt bag."

"Down, boy," he said, "or you won't get to hear the rest of the story."

I lowered my gun to my side once more and he started up with the story again. "I had never meant that to happen, but she was thrilled with the news and she wanted to get married as soon as humanly possible. So, I managed to fake my death and hide in the shadows for a few years, long enough for her to keep believing that I was dead."

"And then she found you," I said, finishing another one of his thoughts.

He laughed and stopped his pacing. "Why the hell am I even telling this story if you already know it so well," he said.

I looked away from him and took in a deep breath, feeling the sweat drip down my face. This always happened whenever I thought about that night, and then I gasped, remembering one small detail about the night. I jerked my head back towards him and glared at him menacingly. "Michael," I said softly. "Those men said your name; they said your name before blazing up the house!"

He lowered his head, scowling at me. "Well, no shit, it was me," he said, spitting out his words. "I'm the one who told them to burn down the place, because I knew that some stupid little kid would be inside, helpless against the flames! But here you are, alive and well, and NOT just a charred memory of your dead slut of a mom!"

I gripped the gun tighter, controlling myself from shooting him in the head, but he still hadn't confessed to actually killing her, despite how close he was.

"And then, she found me and begged for me to come live with her. She said that our child needed a father, but I told her that I wanted nothing to with her or the goddamn brat," he said, slowly regaining his pace. "I told her then and there that I just slept with her for the information, that the one night we spent together meant nothing to me but sex with some hot, young blond. I think that's when she gave up hope and started to hate me. She began to curse my very name, regretted even falling in love with me, which, in turn, meant regretting ever having _you_." He stopped and looked right into my eyes, waiting for some sort of reaction on my part, but I just returned his favor.

"What, doesn't that make you sad? Knowing that deep down, Mommy really didn't want you?"

I kept my stare, not even blinking. "Just finish the goddamn story," I said, in a dark tone.

He started to laugh and pointed to my chest, where my rosary was dangling from my neck. "Should you really use that language with such a sacred article hanging around your neck," he said.

Slowly, I started to raise my gun again. "Finish it."

He stood there, facing me with a firm stance. "And that's when I killed her, in the middle of her fit of anger. She charged towards me, but I managed to overpower her and beat the shit out of her for a bit. In her last moments, she knelt down in front of me, a gun in my hand to her head, and said, 'One day, Mihael will get you.'" He lowered his head, laughing darkly. "And then I blew her brains out."

That was it, but by the time I managed to apply the slightest pressure to the trigger, he smacked it right out of my hand, sending it plummeting to the ground. I looked at my gun lying on the floor, until he punched me right in the face. I flew back into the door and he ran up to me, kneeing me into the stomach.

I felt the blood drip from my mouth, my body hunched over. Looking up, I saw his ugly, laughing face.

"You really are quite weak, asshole," he said. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared me down. "And you call yourself my son?"

Immediately taking offense, I charged my head into his chest and sent his body to the other side of the room, slamming him into the couch, which slid across the floor of the room, almost crashing out of the window. "When the fuck did I say that," I said, breathing harshly. "For all I know, you just donated sperm."

"You little shit," he said, spitting some blood from his mouth. He tried to stand up, using the couch as a crutch, but I ran up to him and punched him upside the chin. I heard rattling from inside his mouth, like loose teeth, and I laughed.

"What's wrong, Michael, can't you even take on a seventeen-year-old kid?"

But his next moves were too quick to read, and he tackled me to the ground, his hands groped around my neck. "Don't get too cocky, asshole."

I couldn't breathe; I actually thought for a moment that I would die, right then and there. I kept gasping for air, but nothing would fill into my lungs. But before I let myself grow completely weak, I took my foot and propelled him over my head, sending him tumbling to the door. I heard the loud thump of the impact and turned my body over, grasping my neck, to see him struggling on the ground. I stood up clutching my stomach, still in pain from his first attack.

Using the door, he regained his footing and started walking towards me. He approached me and ran his fingers through my hair, tugging it and tossing my body to the door. I screamed, my face slamming into the cold, metal plating of the door.

"That's what you deserve, punk," he said. In the next instant, my back was up against the door and his hand was pressed against my neck, holding me up against the metal. The next sound I heard was the cocking of a gun, pointed to my left temple. My eyes widened, racing between the gun in his hand and his glaring eyes.

"Now, stop being such a prick and listen to me," he said, and then laughed. "You know, you're the spitting image of your mother, except you have my eyes, not to mention my douche bag personality. Now, you may hate me until the ends of the Earth, but I am, unfortunately, your father, and in the end, you mother never really wanted you. I mean, didn't she say that you were the sole proof of our love? Bullshit, I never loved her! She was just some hot chick that I wanted to fuck, and that's that. So get over yourself and accept the fact that you are nothing but a waste; you mean nothing to the world."

We stared into each other's hateful eyes, until his eyes suddenly went from scornful hate to utmost fear; I had pulled out the extra gun, hidden in my jacket and pointed it right to his crotch. "Don't you fucking touch me, asshole," I said, "or I'll blow your fucking nut sack right through your ass."

His eyes grew larger and he started down and then back into my eyes, releasing his hand from my neck and lowering the gun from my head.

But that didn't stop me; I pulled the trigger and he let out the loudest, most painful scream that could ever escape from the human mouth. He backed up a few feet and fell to the ground, clutching to his groin. The list of profanities that came out of his mouth was too long to remember. I walked over to him and pointed the gun to his head.

"You know, despite the fact that I hate you for killing my mother and having me sent to some orphanage, that's not half the reason why I'm here tonight." I blankly stared at his face, watching the flood of blood drip from his mouth and his hands.

"Then why the fuck did you shoot my cock off," he yelled, blood flying everywhere.

I smiled and tilted my head. "That press conference that you held last year, about your devotion to KIRA," I said.

His chin was trembling but he still managed to snicker at me. "What about it," he said. "The chances of getting killed by KIRA if you've already pledged your allegiance to him are close to zero." He paused. "Why the fuck to you care so much, anyway?"

I momentarily shared in his laughter as I cocked the gun. "Because," I began, "I'm L's successor, and that bastard KIRA killed L."

His eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped slowly. He was completely still. "What?"

"Sayonara, shit head," I said, and pulled the trigger.

The mass of blood that exploded from the back of his head splattered against the couch and window behind him. I stepped back, allowing his bloody corpse to fall forward. Lowering my gun, I raised my head and breathed in the sweet air of success. "Only one more left," I said. I reached inside my pocket and pulled out my cell phone, calling Matt.

"Hey babe," he answered, several rings later.

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up, you asshole, I'm coming downstairs now, so get the car ready."

"Got it!" He hung up immediately afterwards.

I walked into the hallway and stepped into the elevator. The second the doors closed, I lost myself in thought, in every thing I had planned for the past two years. I felt so satisfied with myself, with the crime I just committed, but this was not my life goal. If the man I just shot had been KIRA and not my father, my level of satisfaction would've reached the heavens.

The doors opened to the main level and I stepped out with my gun in hand. Walking into the lobby, I saw Matt playing games on the computer.

"Let's get outta here," I said, putting my gun back into my jacket.

He looked up and smiled. "Okay," he said, hopping over desk. He walked up to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "Oh yeah," he started. "These two hot chicks came down here screaming something about a gun, so I tossed them into the closet and locked from the outside with a broom."

We walked out of the building and I just stared at him. "What the hell?"

He detached himself from me and walked over to the driver's side of the car, parked in front of the building. "Well, you told me to take care of all the witnesses, and they were witnesses!"

I shook my head and slid into the passenger's seat. "My God…why are we so fucked up in the head," I said to the sound of the starting engine.

He drove off and laughed. "Yeah, we sure are," he said. "But at least I have the excuse of video games. You're a whole other story." He looked back at the building and laughed. "But at least we decided to do something like this when the world is preoccupied with the threat of KIRA."

Bought in by my curiosity, I looked back at the building, too. Within seconds, the whole place exploded from top to bottom, and collapsed into itself. I silently laughed under my breath, turning back in my seat. "Oh yeah," I said. "I forgot about that part."

He turned his head back as well, placing a fresh cigarette in his mouth. "You mind getting this one for me," he said, pointing to it.

I laughed and grabbed his lighter from the cup holder, and lit up the cigarette for him. "You're such a lazy ass."

He nodded and smiled. "I know," he said, and then there was a pause, suddenly changing the mood in the car. "Where to next?"

I leaned my head against the window and sighed, losing myself in the midnight scenery. "My mother's grave."

* * *

It was an open field, the open field where my house stood eleven years before. All that was left was the remains of a charred foundation, a few rotting pieces of burnt wood, and a grey headstone, courtesy of Wammy's House, a few feet in front of the remains.

Matt and I walked over to it. It was very simple; just a plain grey headstone that read:

MARIA

JANUARY 23, 1996

"Wow," Matt said, leaning his elbow on my shoulder.

I stared down at the grave, breathing in deeply. "Yeah," I said on the exhale. I started up at the sky, watching the clouds part and mesh together against the backdrop of the early morning sky. "Michael," I started to say. "He said that my mother's last words were that I was going to get him."

My eyes began to swell with tears and I dropped my head, wiping my tears away with my sleeve. "She lived her life loving him so much and he betrayed her so many times," I said, and then let out a small laugh. "I'm just glad that she realized that before she died."

Matt grabbed my face and stared into my eyes. A soft smile spread across his lips and he pulled my body into his. I welcomed his embrace and held threw my arms around him tightly. "Rest in Peace, Mom," I said.

"Rest in Peace, Maria," he whispered softly in my ear.

I smiled and held him closer to my trembling body.

* * *

Aw, I liked that ending...but what matters is if YOU, the people, liked the Chapter! So, please be kind to Review...and sorry, again, but I thought of that fight scene and I was like..."HELLZ YEAH, that's going in my story!"

-**_St. Erbbzz the Third_** (...I...I don't know who came before me...)


	10. Nine: Mafia

Well...here's the next chapter...the _bitch_ one, let me tell you. God, I hate these _almost_ "filler" chapters that I write, but this one couldn't bother me more. It was mostly the end of this chapter, though...another Mello POV, this time of Chapter 74...

**Dice-Cleaner...or Disclaimer**: It's getting harder to make these things creative, you know? Death Note belongs to Ohba/Obata...not me, dammit! Beware of **language**, some **gross images**, and **violence** involving _decapitation_, _guns_, and _explosives_! YAY! Enjoy...cuz this chapter is not my favorite...well, parts of it (mostly the end...)

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_Chapter Nine: Mafia_

America: our next destination. It only seemed natural, considering that after Japan, America was the most KIRA involved country in the world. Matt and I took all of our money, including the money we managed to steal from Michael Keehl's corporation, and got on the earliest possible one-way flight to New York City.

We became squatters, living in one of the many abandoned apartment buildings in the city, though we didn't stay long. My plan was to take the direct offense to KIRA and I decided to side along criminals of high influence; the Mafia. However, almost all of the New York City based Mafia had been wiped clean, so our other alternative was Los Angeles.

"L.A.?" Matt was slouched in a chair and stared up at me from the game he was playing when I told him of my plans.

"Yes, L.A., you whiny bitch," I said, kicking him in the shin.

He dropped his hand-held into his lap, clasping his hands over his leg. "That hurt, Mello," he said, in a slight joking manner.

I rolled my eyes and walked over to the door. "Just get you shit together and hurry up. Our flight leaves in three hours."

"Jeez," he said, standing up. "You know, you really have a problem with planning things against your partner's will." He took his game and left into the bedroom. I heard the rustling of packing, which only took him a few minutes; we didn't have a lot of stuff.

"Come on," I said, opening the front door. "We're gonna miss our flight!"

He poked his head out of the bedroom door, glaring at me. "Mello, I just _heard_ about this fucking flight two minutes ago," he said, tossing his suitcase at me. "DONE!"

I laughed and shook my head, walking out of the apartment with our bags in hand, while Matt trailed behind me, continuing with his interrupted game.

I had spent my first two years out of the orphanage searching for a man named Michael Keehl, and it was finally time to move onto my next, and ultimate task: to destroy KIRA.

* * *

"What would the boss want with a little fucker like you?" Matt and I made it to L.A. in late April, 2008. The most influential mob boss of the city was a man named Rod Loss, and we stood outside the door of his hideout, trying to get pass the bouncer. 

I lifted the suede bag in my hand up to his face, the bottom of it dripping with thick blood. "I have a gift," I said, "that might inspire him to allow me into his gang."

The harsh stench of the bag caught his attention as he clasped his hand over his nose and mouth. "What the fuck?"

I pushed him aside and turned my head back, walking into the building. "Thank you," I said.

Matt ran up to my side, placing his hand on my shoulder. "Are you sure about this, Mello," he said, full of concern. "I mean, this is really dangerous. They could turn you down and kill you!"

I brushed him off of me and laughed. "Matt, with the leverage I brought with me, there's no possible way for them to decline my request."

A few meters down, we saw the door that would lead us to Rod Loss and his gang. I grabbed the handle and forced the door open, being greeted by numerous yells and profanities. Scanning the room, I found him; a large bald man with small, dark eyes and facial hair. "Loss," I said, smirking evilly.

He titled his fat head and stared at me. "Who the fuck are you, kid," he said.

I took the bag and dropped it on the coffee table across from him. "There's a little something in that bag that might be of interest to you," I said.

He kept his eyes on me for a while before looking down at the bag. He leaned forward, starting to untie the black string keeping it closed. "Smells like shit," he said, and then slid the bag down, revealing a head. The men in the room collectively gasped and Rod fell back into his seat.

"It's the head of one of KIRA's most wanted; mob boss Len Parksen," I said, keeping my eyes on Rod.

He met my stare coldly, and after a few seconds of silence, he started laughing and relaxed into his seat. "Jack, clean this up," he said, motioning over on of his men. Rod bent over, picking up the glass of wine beside the head and took a sip. "So, what's your name, kid, and what do you want with my group?"

I smiled, narrowing my eyes at him. "Mello," I said, "and I believe I can keep you safe from KIRA on one condition: help me capture and kill the bastard."

Once the head was cleared from the coffee table, Rod raised his hand, pointing it at Matt. "What about him? Is he part of the package?"

Slowly, I turned my head to Matt, who looked frightened just being in my presence. He looked away and started to laugh, heading towards the door. "Guess that means I'm outta here," he said softly to me.

I sighed and looked over at Rod. "No, he's just my source of outside information. You can trust him not to give away our location," I said, hearing the door shut. I held back my emotions, trying not to reveal the depression of my departing friend; we were always together, but the KIRA case had its sacrifices.

"Well," Rod started. "I guess all that's left is to see what you've got."

I smiled cynically. "Great," I said, walking closer to Rod, formally greeting him with a handshake…

…and in just a month, I gained the utmost trust in all of the gang members, bumping my status in the gang up to second-in-command, right below Rod, who became more of a figurehead than anything. Though I still had contact with Matt; he set up a tracking device to my cell phone so he could always be nearby in case of emergencies, but I still never saw him.

He managed to get into contact with numerous members of an organization run by Near called the SPK. Our gang took advantage of these members, getting updates and information of the KIRA case from them. However, one was kept secret from the group; a woman named Hal Lidner. She was obviously one of the members Near found trustworthy and she was an excellent source of information.

It wasn't until later this year that things started getting…messy. The KIRA case really picked up, thanks to my handiwork in the recent kidnapping of the NPA Director, Takimura. Fortunately, his untimely death brought us closer to KIRA when we held Deputy Direct Yamagi's daughter hostage. We managed to make a trade: her life for the notebook, KIRA's tool of death, confirmed by the police in late 2004 to be in the possession of KIRA suspect Kyousuke Higuchi.

It seemed all too easy; we got the notebook, whose owner, a Shinigami, came down to us, telling us crucial information about it. Nothing could stop us, not even attempts by the U.S. President's most trusted government and military officials.

And then, the NPA got the upper hand; KIRA lent his help to them, and I'm sure of it, otherwise I wouldn't have this scar on my face.

* * *

It was just last week…I've been like this for a fucking week. Souichirou Yagami, Deputy Director of the NPA, was lying on the floor, clutching to the notebook he managed to steal from us. His bullet wounds looked fatal, but that wouldn't have happened if he didn't threaten my life; he managed to find out my real name.

I placed his mask over my head before the other Japanese Police members could get a good glimpse of me. They barged in through the doors, their guns pointed to the other man in the room and, of course, me.

"Drop that switch, Mello," they yelled.

I glanced over at my hand, holding the switch that would active a devastating bomb. There were two choices: get caught by these men which meant serving my head to KIRA on a silver platter, or destroy anything and everything in one instant.

That little red button couldn't look more appealing.

"Drop it, Mello," they screamed once more.

I smirked, knowing that their pleas could not stop me. I placed the slightest amount of pressure on the button, and then…

* * *

...CLIFFHANGER! HA HA! That's right, I did that... 

Sorry if the Matt/Mello separation thing bothers you, but unlike most Fanfics I've read of these two, they were together for _years_ after leaving Wammy's in my story...and I like it like that! Oh yeah...and I bet that head thing was gross, too...but open volume 7 and read Chapter 61 after Mello reminisces...they say HEAD of Mafia boss...heh heh...ew...

Now, PLEASE **REVIEW**...even if you hated it! I don't care...I want to here OPINIONS! Tell me what I did wrong, what you didn't like, or friggin' RAVE about it like it's the greatest thing you ever read...please...no reviews means a sad and lonely Erbby... :(

-this has been...an **_Erbby Production_**...


	11. Ten: M

I know this is quick...but I really didn't like writing this chapter, at ALL! And I know I said that about the last one, but that's becasue of semi-writer's block and horrible formatting...this one was just...ugh! Read and find out!

**DisClaiming - _CommEnce_**: I do not own Death Note: props to Ohba/Obata. Be wary, readers, as there may be **language** in this chapter...but that's all...

Enjoy...

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_Chapter Ten: M_

I open my eyes, realizing that I just lost myself in a memory of fourteen years. The fire's still going, finishing off the remains of my photo. I laugh and pull out my phone for a second time, calling none other than Matt.

"What?" He sounds agitated.

"How about…you come over to New York, instead," I say.

He breathes deeply, then speaks. "Fine, whatever, you little bitch. I'll go catch a flight now…you back in the old apartment?"

I grunt affirmatively into the phone and he sighs.

"Got it…I'll see you whenever," he says, hanging up.

I close the phone and toss it in my lap, leaning my head on the back of the chair and glancing out the window. It's so damn noisy out there, how did I manage to sleep? I sigh and close my eyes, but I find it hard to fall back asleep.

* * *

"Oh my God, what happened to your beautiful face?" 

I roll my eyes. Matt's standing in the doorway of the apartment and grabs my scarred face.

"Didn't I tell you? I got caught in my own explosion," I say, trying to pry his gloved hands off of me.

"Bullshit, no…but now that you mention it, it seems very likely of you to do something so idiotic and reckless." He says all of this in a mess of laughter and giggles, trashing my face about. For some reason, he's stronger than I expect and he plants a kiss on my burnt cheek. "You cute little psycho, you!"

I push him from my body and wipe his spit from my charred flesh. "Jackass," I yell and stare into his eyes through the tinted plastic frames, into his smiling eyes. I can't believe how long it's actually been since we've last seen each other, only listening to each other's voices through the radio waves of a cell phone. But he looks the same as I left him; same outfit, same stupid disposition on his face, even the same cigarettes – only Marlboro smells like Matt.

I'm the one who's changed. I'm scarred and haggard, and a bit bitter, too, considering all of the KIRA shit I've been dealing with for the past month.

I close my eyes and hold back the tears, turning away. "Okay," I start, trembling under my speech. "So, I don't know how long we're staying here, but I have a little plan up my sleeves, so let's just wait until that unfolds."

"What?!"

I turn back; he's not smiling anymore.

"You dragged me all the way out to fucking New York and you don't know when the hell when we'll be back in L.A.?" He throws his head back and grunts, walking over to the chair and tossing his body down. "I should've just let you to rot with Rod last year, but NO…you needed me for _outside information_…yeah, outside information, my ass!"

"You know…" I start angrily, turning my head to him.

But he's back to normal, just sitting on the chair, laughing at me. "Gotcha!"

I growl, and leap towards him, catching his neck in a hold, but he won't stop laughing.

"Okay, okay," he chokes, the smile still on his face. "Get off me! I was only teasing!"

I release my hold and exhale furiously. Climbing off the chair, I walk to the window and stare down at the busy New York street. I close my eyes, leaning my forehead against the glass.

* * *

It's cold on the plane. But it's all worth it, taking us back to L.A. Matt and I are following Aizawa and Mogi, members of the Japanese Police Force working under the imposter L, back to their American base from New York. I worked some wonders, and brought Mogi to Near, getting a favor out of him after all of the information that I spilled to him. 

It's strange, this case, and the way it's unfolding, all thanks to my fuck up. I rest my head against the window, gazing over the American country side from above, and it's quite the site. I feel safe and secure, knowing that this plane will take me back to L.A., where I managed to make quite a home for myself, but after that, I don't know where this case will fly me to next. I guess there's something about that thought that makes me feel uncomfortable.

* * *

Japan; no, I don't like it here. It's small and congested with human life, but not in a good way like L.A., or even New York. And I don't even know how this case will end. A Japanese anchor woman named Kiyomi Takada is acting as KIRA's spokeswoman and she may be the key to his demise. 

"What do you mean by that?" Matt is sitting across from me, staring straight into my eyes.

I just got off the phone with Hal, and she told me about Near's plan for the next few days. "Just as you heard it, Matt," I say, standing up to stare out the window. It's so late, but the streets below are still so crowded. The foreign chatter strains my ears, and I harshly shut the window. "I'm the only one to do it."

Suddenly, I feel his body pressed against my back, and he wraps his arms around my stomach. "What plan do you have up your sleeves," he whispers in my ear.

I close my eyes to hold back the tears, my head falling onto the glass. "It's messy." I softly let the words escape from my mouth. "I don't like it; it's risky, but it's the only way."

He rests his head on my shoulder, very reminiscent of that one day at Wammy's where I felt as if Near was taking over my very existence. "Tell me," he says.

It takes all of my strength to breathe in, and slowly the air escapes my body in a laugh, thinking about how over dramatic I'm being with this situation. "You got a smoke bomb?"

* * *

I hope this works out; I hope to dear God that this idea of mine plays out correctly. On my motorcycle, I watch as Matt drives away and fires his smoke bomb. 

"I'd only do crazy shit like this for you, Mello," he said to me before driving off.

I take a deep breath and place the helmet over my head, driving past the cloud of smoke and into a clearing where I see Hal and…that woman. "It's too dangerous here, Takada-sama," I yell. "Hurry, get on the bike!"

Hal just stares at me. She knows what I have planned, or at least an idea of what. "Hurry," I yell again.

She snaps out of her daze, bringing Takada over to my motorcycle. The petite Japanese woman situates herself behind me, but I'm not giving her much time at all; I just drive off.

The remnants of her security not following Matt are following me in a herd of cars, but I have to get away from them, as soon as possible. And there it is; I veer off into an alley, catching them off guard, and I slam her wrist into a ring of handcuffs.

"What," I hear her say.

Shut the fuck up, bitch, I think to myself. This woman is connected to KIRA somehow, and she's the link to destroying him.

The shouts and sounds of her security guards die down the further we go down the alley. I drive into the back of an open van, carefully placed just for this plan. I unlock the handcuff ring and she backs up into the corner of the space.

"I need you to take off everything that you're wearing and put in that box," I say coldly, pointing to the empty box on the floor of the storage space.

She looks frightened. "So you're telling me just to strip down right here," she says, her voice trembling over every word.

I harden my stare on her and nod. "That's right, because you've probably got a tracking device on so your guards know exactly where you are. This delivery truck's company is nearby, so I'm dumping your things there."

She harshly exhales, loud enough for me to hear.

"Come on," I say, raising both my gun and a sheet of linen. "I'm letting you use this blanket, alright?"

She's hesitating again and then she slowly opens her mouth to speak. "Okay," she starts nervously. "I'll just put my cell phone and handbag in there first so I can't contact anybody, okay? Just…let me rap the blanket around me before I take off my underwear!" Her voice rises in pitch, but I don't want to see her naked body; I just want to get to KIRA.

"I don't care, just hurry up," I say, handing over the blanket.

I walk out, close the door behind me, and quickly toss a uniform shirt and a pair slacks over my leather vest and pants, looking like one of the delivery company workers. I walk back inside to gather the box.

Kneeling down, I hand her my cell phone. "Here, this should be alright," I say, then stand up with the box in hand. "I just need you to be quiet in here for a while, okay," I say, tipping the uniform hat slightly over my face.

I walk out, up to the front of the van, and after a few minutes, drive into the main base of the delivery company, where I quickly drop off the box and get back in the van.

I pull off the striped top and hat, pull on my driving gloves, and drive out of the base.

"It has yet to be determined the identity of the man who was recently shot down…" The monitor in the van shows the image of the car I know all too well, bullet holes covering every inch, but there's one thing missing from the screen: Matt.

I lower my head, stopping any tears, and quickly look back onto the road…Matt, I didn't think that they'd kill you…I'm so sorry.

I shake my head, trying to get an image of Matt's mutilated corpse out of my head and turn onto the freeway and head towards Nagano; they won't find her there immediately, or hopefully at all. There's this feeling in the pit of my stomach that doesn't sit right with me; I've got to stop somewhere, before I get sick all over this van. I merge off the main highway and a mile down the road I see an old, run down church, and turn into its weed grown driveway.

I sigh, smirking. Maybe it's because Matt just got shot up that I feel this way. I mean, he'd still be alive if I hadn't asked for his help. But he would've wanted to join in on my plan anyway, it's just his nature…or at least, was.

I shake my head once more, but this time I don't stop after getting Matt off my mind, even though that is the truth; everything is cleared off my mind, now.

The sour feeling in the pit of my stomach rises to my chest. I try to breathe in, but my heart is beating like it's…

…no…not this, it can't be. The crash of the small window behind me grabs the last of my attention, and there's Takada, glaring at me.

…I can't believe this; no, it's _not_ happening! My head hits the steering wheel, my foot hits the brake…

…no…it's not true…I can't believe…I…lost…

* * *

NOOOOO! HE'S DEAD! FUCKING TAKADA BITCH! I hate her! SEE! It _pained_, me to write this chapter. Oh, my Mello! OH! And on another depressing note, it's NEAR'S BIRTHDAY TODAY! Yeah, that's right, I KILLED Mello on his rival's birthday! OH GOD! 

...but, did you see a "**The End**" at the end of this chapter...Ha ha ha ha ha...no, I didn't think so...stay tuned, and REVIEW...sorry about the gay-ass pathetic excuse of a threat at the end of the last chapter, but please, REVIEW!

-**_the saddened...Erbby_**


	12. Epilogue

Well, I know it took a while, and after that promise of "more to come"...more never came!!!! ha ha! yeah, well, school came up and a bit of writer's block, but here is the final chapter...but more like the Epilogue...

**Dissin' dose Claimah's, yo!**: I DO NOT OWN DEATH NOTE...got it? This is the afterlife Chapter, so let me elaborate. In Death Note, Ryuk says that after Death, humans go to MU (nothingness)...this is my interpretation of MU. There is some language in this chapter, but that's about it...and major spoilers if you haven't read the last volume of the series...but if that's the case...then why are you here because the _last_ chapter had spoilers for Vol. 12 too...oh well!

Also, the lyrics at the end come from _Otherside_ by the Red Hot Chili Peppers off the Album **Californication**...So please, ENJOY the conclusion of Erbby's lovely story about Mello...

_

* * *

_

_Epilogue_

Darkness…but, why? I thought I just died. How come I'm still…oh, I can't feel my body, I guess I really am dead. But still, how come I still feel…something?

"Mihael…" I faintly hear a woman's voice in the distance. "Mihael." It's becoming clearer; I can make out the sound of her voice.

"Moth…" I start, before a harsher voice obstructs my first uttered sentence.

"Mello, get the fuck up," Matt yells.

My eyes flash open, only to reveal the opposite to which I had been exposed: white. "Matt," I say, as black stripes cross over the white in front of me. Then a head of crimson hair, then the goggles, then…

A kick in my side. "About time," he says, coming into view as I curl into a ball from the pain.

"What the hell, Matt," I yell, bolting up.

He laughs at me, falling to the ground to sit next to me. "Welcome to Death," he says, throwing his arm around my shoulder.

I look around, and everything is still white. I don't even think I'm sitting on a solid surface. "There's nothing here," I say.

He nods. "Yeah, but you know," he starts, "we're dead, now, so it doesn't really matter."

I look over at him; he looks completely oblivious, as if he was never full of bullets before his short life ended. "You're here," I say, my face contorted in confusion.

He tilts his head to look up at me. "And so is everyone else."

"Mihael," the woman's voice says once more. I lean forward, looking in the direction of the voice, and from the white void, she appears. A tall woman, with blond curls flowing down to her waist; soft, pale white skin throughout her thin body; large blue eyes and a warm smile on her face…it's been fourteen years since I've felt such a surge of happiness, now throughout my intangible body.

"Mother," I whisper, standing up.

Her smile becomes wider and she brings out her arms. "My baby," she says, tears strolling down her white cheeks, falling into nothingness.

I feel like a kid again and run into her arms. "Mother," I say once more as she closes her arms around my body.

It's weird, now that she looks only a few years older than me when, in all actuality, she's a good twenty years my elder.

She releases her embrace and frames my face delicately in her hands. Her smile fades and her face fills with a mother's concern. "What did you do," she says, examining the scar on my face.

Matt laughs in the background and I feel his hand slap hard on my shoulder. "Well, Maria, your little boy here had a habit in his life of blowing things up, including his face," he says.

I shudder with anger and try to turn my face to him. "Shut up, asshole," I say.

He laughs again as my mother forcibly brings my face to hers once more, this time her face is stern. "Language, young man," she says.

I sigh and laugh as she releases my face. "Come on, Mom," I say. "We're dead!"

Her face is blank now, and she drops her head. "Thank you," she says softly.

I stare at her, only to realize that she's referring to Michael Keehl. I feel sick now, considering that I kept saying that I killed him for the KIRA case…but that's not true. If I didn't kill him for my mother, what kind of son would I be?

"Yeah," I say, wrapping my arms around her, now holding her in my own embrace.

She's crying, but softly, just to match her soft, serene image. "It meant so much to me, when you killed him," she says, "and I know that's a horrible thing to say, but he…he…"

"I know," I quickly say, stopping her before she flares in a rage; I obviously got my trait of quickly shifting emotions from her.

She looks up at me and I loosen my hold from her. "I love you, baby, and I'm sorry that I left you alone for…_him_," she says, spite in her voice at the end of the sentence.

I glance over at Matt. "Yeah, well," I start awkwardly, "if you didn't, I never would've gone to Wammy's…"

…Wammy's! Matt's smile becomes wider and he looks off into the other direction of white distance.

I follow his gaze, tear filling up my eyes, now. He's there; slouched, crazy black hair, black bags of insomnia…it's L. I run over and crash into him, and we fall onto the white ground of nothing with a soft thump. My arms are clutched to his side, tears running into my laughing mouth.

"L!"

"Hey, Mello," he says in that amazing monotone voice of his. I slip off him and look at him; his soft smile is directed towards me and then…

"The case!" I turn my head to Matt. "Near," I say and he laughs; so does L.

I look down at L, still sprawled on the ground. "KIRA's caught," he says. "Near got him, Mello."

My faces heats up with anger and I stand up, looking down at L with disgust. But he follows my lead, and places his hand on my shoulder.

"Near got him _thanks_ to you, Mello," he says calmly.

I look over at Matt, who's nodding. "Yeah, apparently, our kidnapping helped the SPK discover that the "X-KIRA" they were tagging had the real notebook in a bank vault, so they tampered around with it and caught both him and the real KIRA off guard," he says, walking over to me. "There are some other messy details, but he said that without you, KIRA would've won. Oh and you'll love this," he laughs. "He said that neither of you could surpass L, but the both of you together totally could!"

L shoots Matt a nasty look, but Matt doesn't notice; he carries on. "I guess that in order to surpass L, he needed your crazy ass emotional shit mixed with his fucked up emotionless reasoning and composure."

I dart my eyes back and forth between the two of them. "How…how do you know all this?"

Matt gestures his head to another patch of white nothing. "We've been watching," he says.

I stare fixedly at the point of white, but I see nothing. I shake my head, ignoring him, and look back at L. "Thank you," he says, in a similar manner like my mother, but I knew that the only reason I wanted to get KIRA was because of L's death. Well, _that_ and of course surpassing Near.

I smile and tightly wrap my arms him, giggling. "You knew that if anything happened to you, I would be the first to act…"

"…irrationally," L says, completing my sentence with his own monotone twist.

I sigh and release him, letting out a quiet, awkward laugh. "Yeah, I suppose, so."

He places his hand on my head, and smiles at me; I don't think I've ever seen him smile like that during his lifetime. "Thank you," he says, and his hand drops from my head to his side. His smile fades almost immediately as he turns his head. "All I have to do now is…talk to him."

He motions over to a body, huddled in the white air. "Yagami-kun," he says, and he disappears, walking to the hunched body.

I sigh and look away towards my mother's smiling face. "I just wanted to see you, Mihael," she says, sadly. "I've been watching you from here for years, but now that we've met up in the afterlife, I have nothing to watch anymore." She closes her eyes and brings her face into mine, softly placing her lips on my scarred cheek.

I close my eyes, too. Her kiss feels like it's lifting the very scar from my cheek, returning my face to its former glory. She stands up straight, smiles, and fades slowly into the surroundings. "It's time for me to rest, Mihael. I'm tired…"

…and she's gone.

Tears start to swell up, but not because I'm sad that she left again; because I know that I truly avenged her, that it worked, and that her spirit can rest in this confounded void.

Matt wraps his arm around shoulder and guides us away from our point. "Well, we're done, Mello," he says, staring blankly into the distance.

"Yeah," I say, leaning my head on his shoulder. I close my eyes and for the first time ever, I feel a sensation of security. It's over, everything is over; my life, the KIRA case, everything. But I'm fine with that.

Matt directs my body to the ground, my head still leaning on his shoulder. He brings me closer to him and he grunts. "You know the first thing that happened to me after I died…" He stops and shakes his head.

I lift up my head and stare at him. "What," I say.

He laughs yet again. "I…remembered."

My stare stays on him; blank and confused. "What?"

His arm slides from my shoulder and meets with his other behind his head, and he leans back, falling on the ground behind us. "Everything; I remembered everything that happened to me before Wammy's House."

I abruptly turn and stare fiercely into his eyes, repeating, "What?"

He leans forward and smacks his palm on my forehead. "Hello! Don't you know how to listen? I just said that I remembered everything that I forgot. The second I died, the first seven years of my life flashed through my head. I remembered, Mello," he says, his eyes and face stern and demanding. "All of the memories that I never bothered to remember, all of the memories that meant nothing to my existence, I have them now!"

I keep staring at him, unable to express my opinion in words. I'd completely forgotten that Matt had amnesia; that the years of his life before Wammy's were lost the night he came to the orphanage; because that "Matt" meant nothing to me.

I sigh and look away. "Yeah," I say softly. I can feel his stare on me and suddenly, he lands his body across my legs, staring up at me.

"But you don't look like you're ready for that," he says, smiling.

I laugh a little and fall back. Closing my eyes, I remember the day I first met him: he was a haggard young boy, drenched and bandaged up, nearly blind in one covered eye with foggy vision in the other. I can only imagine what horrible memory flashed through his mind after he died that resulted in that image.

"I think," I start saying softly; Matt sits up and stares at me.

"Yeah?"

"I think all that's left to do…is to wait for Near," I say.

He smiles and nods, lying down next to me.

"Sounds like a plan," he says.

I'll wait for his story later, but finally, my opportunity to relax has come. There are no troubles resting on my chest and no conflicts fighting in my mind. It's finally time to rest…

_How long, how long will I slide _

_Separate my side_

_I don't, I don't believe it's fair_

_Slittin' my throat is all I ever…_

**The End**

* * *

Did you like it?

Thanks for reading this story and sticking 'till the end. Mello is my all-time favorite Character, so this story means a lot to me...So please, **REVIEW**!

-**_erbby_**

P.S: But what about Matt's past? STAY POSTED!


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